


Redención

by wheresmyfemurhector



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Being Lost, Confrontations, Crying, Diary/Journal, Emotional, F/M, Family, Guitars, I Don't Even Know, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder, Poison, Post-Canon, Reading, Sex, Song Lyrics, Talking, adding tags as i go honestly, hector has mild anxiety, im so sorry, this chapter is hard to add tags for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-19 05:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17595548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheresmyfemurhector/pseuds/wheresmyfemurhector
Summary: Ernesto De La Cruz has been under the old church bell for three years following the movie.  Upon being freed, he has to adjust to life where everyone resents him. He has a few bones to bury, and skeletons to let out of the closet. Will Hector want to hear what his ex-friend wants to say? Will Ernesto have his redemption arc? Can he fix the things he's broken? I guess we'll find out together because I have no idea what direction this is going!





	1. The bell

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first chapter of this little series! I don't know where this is going 100% but if you bear through it, I hope you enjoy it! This chapter is short, future chapters will have more!

Ernesto wasn’t sure how long he had been under the one hundred ton bell. It could have been days, months, or even years for all he knew. At first his ex fans would stop by to hit the bell, laughing at the ringing would rattle all his bones. Some would only with with their hands, resulting in a light thud. Nothing that would hurt his hearing. Others were not so kind; hitting the bell with crowbars, metal bats, hammers, anything to make it ring loudly within.  
The hitting had stopped a while ago. Exactly how long Ernesto wasn’t sure. For an unknown amount of time he has been left with nothing but his thoughts. One of his worst fears was to be alone with his thoughts. Ernesto’s ego strives on being around others. He glowed in the presents of fans and reporters. Alone, he as nothing more than a man who lied and murdered his best friend.  
_“You rat! I just wanted to go home!”_  
Héctor’s voice rang through his skull. His ex best friend…

He remembered a time before the road to fame. When they’d play in the plaza of Santa Cecilia together. They’d play their guitars and sing songs together. Héctor would often make up silly dances on stage to grasp the audience's attention. There was a time when Ernesto would gladly join Héctor with his silly antics for the crowd.  
_“Ernesto! You call that dancing? Baila conmigo mi amigo!”_  
_“Aye! Maybe you should do the dancing, and I’ll do the being handsome part!” Ernesto laughed with his friend, earning a roar of clapping and laughter from their small audience._  
Their banter had always been what made playing together so fun. The memory would normally plant a smile on Ernesto’s face, but given the circumstances he was not in the mood for smiling. The nice memories still punched a feeling a remorse in his chest, but the bad would tear his mind apart. The night Héctor tried to leave wasn’t their first argument. They may have been best friends, but even friends argue from time to time.  
The night Ernesto decided to murder Héctor was one of the hardests of his life. He had the poison stashed away for a while just in case. Héctor had become so consumed by his family that he was ready to just throw him away… All their years of friendship down the drain for some puta wife and child. It could have been him. They could of had a life together.

His thought was cut short by a loud clanking sound, the ground around him beginning to rumble.  
“What’s going on out there!” Ernesto demanded as he stood up, glancing around the pitch black space around him.  
The ground rumbled again, this time the bell seemed to shake a bit. Ernesto nearly stumbled back as the bell began to lift. The outside light began to shine in as the bell lifted up, causing the ex musician to squint and cover his eyes. He hadn’t seen light in what felt like forever. Blinking a few times he tried to adjust his vision. Ernesto didn’t recognize any of the skeletons around him. Most looked to be regular construction workers, and two others looked to be police.  
Ernesto rolled his eyes, taking his first step from under the bell.  
“Well, aren’t you going to arrest me?” He asked, glancing the officers over. The woman office scoffed at the man's voice.  
“We should. But three years under that bell apparently is enough for the judges. If it were up to us, we’d never move that damn bell.”  
“But, we had to move the bell anyway. It’s being moved to get cleaned and put onto a new church.” The male office stated, watching the construction crew.  
Ernesto sighed with relief. Glad he wouldn’t need to spend the rest of his un-dead life in jail.  
“Gracias a Dios.” He mumbled, “So, I can go home then? That’s it?” He rose a brow, seeing the officers eye each other.  
“That’s the other thing, Señor De La Cruz… Your mansion has been converted into a place for the ones who are being forgotten or no ofrenda. There’s plenty there for them to at least have a decent afterlife until… until their forgotten.” She broke the ice, seeing his face twist into a fit of anger.  
“ _What_! So where in the hell am I supposed to go!?” Ernesto was furious. How could anyone give away all the things he’s worked for! He gave up everything he loved to earn the life he wanted.  
“Oh, you’re still welcome there. It’s open to the public. But you have no authority to kick anyone out. And between us, I doubt they’d take to it very well if you showed up. So figure something out.” She winked with a small smirk. No one really cared what Ernesto does next, as long as he’s not bothering anyone. They’d jump at the first chance to lock him up now.

Ernesto tightened his fists, watching as the two cops walked away from him. How could they do this to him! How could this happen? Well, he knew exactly how and why it happened. But he wanted it all to go back to normal.  
A few uneasy glares from the construction crew was enough for Ernesto to turn on his heels and walk away. The woman officer said he’s been under that bell for three years. He couldn’t help but wonder again if Héctor has made it. He wondered if everyone still hated him -- the looks the construction crew were giving him before he left was convincing enough that the answer was yes. As he entered town he heard a few gasps and whispers in the distance.  
_“It’s Ernesto…”_  
_“Who let the murderer out?”_  
 _“Bet you he paid someone to let him out…”_  
 _“What if he tries to kill again…”_

 

It took everything Ernesto was to bite his tongue and not argue with those whispering around him. It became clear to that he had to become less noticeable. He wandered around the area a bit before stopping into a shop with clothes on display. Ernesto usually loved to wear his flashy clothes. Bright colors, especially white. Sequins and anything that’ll make his outfit flashy and noticeable. Today he grabbed a pair of plain jeans, black t-shirt and long coat with a hood. Finishing the look with a pair of sunglasses. He headed towards the door with the items.  
“Are you planning to pay for those, señor?” A woman's voice called from the checkout counter, causing Ernesto to turn his head. It didn’t cross his mind that he couldn’t just take what he wanted… He tapped a hand over his pockets. Nothing…  
“Well, Señora, I would. But I don’t think that’s necessary. These? Are not worth payment.”  
Before the woman could say anything more, Ernesto bolted out the door. He had to run as far away from town as he could. He wasn’t ready to get locked up by the police for stealing some worthless clothes. But they were necessary.

Ernesto walked for what felt like a long time, finally ending up in the ruins of Shantytown. It looked like an absolute hellhole. Abandoned, run down, disgusting. Ernesto figured most of its original residents were now living in his mansion, and he was stuck here. Grumbling to himself, he walked into one of the abandoned hutts to change. Once in his new clothes he carried the old, flashy outfit outside. Staring at it with remorse before tossing them to the water below him. He watched the outfit slowly sink, closing out a part of his life. He wasn’t sure that he was ready for the next chapter, it wasn’t exactly what he was hoping the new chapter would be…

 

He still had many bridges to burn, and skeletons to let out. But he’d worry about that later.


	2. Little blue book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Héctor decides to visit the old residents of Shantytown who have been living in De La Cruz's old mansion. He finds something very special in Ernesto's closet, and something of Ernesto's he may need to look into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost a special thank you to my beta hTeDruknenPotaT! She's truly amazing and I don't deserve her! Be sure to check out her works as well!  
> This chapter is Héctor's POV

**‘Ernesto De La Cruz has finally been released from the bell that’s been holding him prisoner for three years. No one has seen the blacklisted musician since Wednesday morning when a local construction team needed to make room for a new renovation. Rumor has it De La Cruz is hiding from presses. Many concerned citizens have expressed their feelings toward the matter, wanting to ban him from town to protect everyone. We will update everyone with more information as time passes.’**

 

“What!” Hèctor slammed the news paper onto the table and stood from his seat. He couldn’t believe his eyes at what the paper read. How could they let him walk free? He murdered him and tried to murder his great great grandson! 

“Imelda, have you seen this! They moved the bell! Ernesto is out and wandering around who knows where!” He waved his arms around in frustration.

Imelda took a sip of her coffee before placing the cup gently onto the table. Her eyes scanned Hèctor before sighing,

“Si, Oscar and Felipe told me this morning.” She folded her arms over her chest.  
“What? You knew! ‘Melda how can they let him walk free after everything?” Hèctor was furious at the thought of Ernesto being allowed to walk free. 

“Mi esposo, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d get worked up. He’s not in town, no one likes him, he’s probably off hiding until his final death. Try not to let it eat away at you, amor. I don’t need you getting into anymore trouble,” she warned with a stern tone. “I need to go work in the shop, promise me you wont go off doing anything stupid.” 

“Si,  lo prometo... “ He watched Imelda leave the room after promising her he’d stay out of trouble. It wasn’t a lie, he didn’t plan on getting into any trouble. Maybe just investigate the situation. What trouble could that cause? 

 

Hèctor left the house not too long after Imelda. His first stop; the repurposed De La Cruz mansion. Most of his Shantytown friends and adoptive family now lived comfortably there. Plenty of food, alcohol, and entertainment. He could hear some residents inside laughing and listening to music. It made him smile. 

Before, his nearly forgotten friends would only sit around. They’d drink and try to numb the pain of what was inevitable. Hèctor used to try so hard to keep them smiling. He would drink with them and do whatever they wanted to keep them happy. 

One woman; María Florez, had been like a mother to him. In life she was a mother of two children. She married a man who later on drank too much. One night, he left a cigarette lit and their home went up in flames. She told Hèctor about how when she woke up in the Land of the Dead, her first question was whether her kids okay. María was being forgotten, and had still never been reunited with any family. 

Hèctor always assured her that they probably lived. He would try to suggest that all photos were burned in the fire, and that the kids could have been too traumatized to remember her. He assured her that they wouldn’t willingly forget such a mujer hermosa. After hearing her story, they seemed to adopt each other as mother and son. 

 

Hèctor was struck with a moment of guilt as he dragged his feet up the stairs. With everything going on he had completely neglected to check on the forgotten family. Would they be mad at him? Would the ones he used to know still even be there? He shook his head at the thought and opened the door, plastering a grin on his face. 

“Aye! These guys!” He hollered as he strolled through the large front doors. 

At first, no one said anything, causing Hèctor’s smile to fall. The others seemed to silently glare before one broke the silence with a loud laugh. Everyone else followed, breaking character after him. 

“Cousin Hèctor!” 

“Hola Tio Hèctor!”

“Ven aqui guapo!”

Hèctor grinned again, relieved to see so many familiar faces still around. He looked for one in particular. 

“Carlos! Is Mamà María… is she still here?” He had to apologize for not visiting. He owed that much to her. 

“María? Florez? Si! I think she’ll be happy to see you, primo!” Carlos grinned as he slapped a hand over Hèctor’s back. “She and a couple other women have actually been helping the forgotten children and babies,” he said proudly, holding an arm out to guide Hèctor along with him. 

“Really? That’s.. that’s wonderful! The children are lucky to have a woman like her watching after them.” 

“You know, a lot of us had given up. Before the De La Cruz incident most of us were just waiting around to die again… But now, here, we’re trying to use the energy we have left, and the days we have are gifted with trying to exist to the fullest.” 

“That’s wonderful, Out of the many good things to come out of my bad situation, I’m glad this is one of them,” he said truthfully.  Suddenly, Carlos stopped walking.

“You’re too good a man for any of that to happen to, Hèctor,” he sighed, looking to the taller man. “When we all were waiting around to disappear, you included, you still would be your crazy self and take care of us. I wanted to thank you for that. On behalf of all of us. You didn’t deserve to be murdered at such a young age. At all even. What Ernesto did, and then hid from the world, was ruthless. Evil… how have you been anyway? Let me stop talking your ears off.  Or.” Carlos chuckled. “So to speak.”

“Me?”  Hector put his hands to where his missing ears were. “Well, I finally got to reconnect with my wife. Imelda finally forgave me… I was stupid to leave on tour with Ernesto. I regret not having the strength to tell him I didn’t want to go. I just wanted him to achieve his dreams. But I couldn’t do it anymore. I missed my wife and daughter too much to bear.” He shook his head regretfully. “I only just learned that night my great great grandson came that he murdered me. I should have suspected it. But I didn’t…” Hèctor could see the remorse on Carlos’s face, causing Hèctor to offer a smile. “But hey! I’m back with Imelda. I got to meet my family, see all that she has built, I crossed the bride for the first time a couple years ago… I could see my living family again and it was just… So nice.” 

For the longest time Hèctor never felt deserving of family. Even after being forgiven by Imelda. It was hard at first to get to know everyone. The twins knew him in life, and were the first besides Imelda to open up to him. Everyone else seemed to follow afterward. 

“María should be in the ballroom. It’s where the kids have the most space to run around.” Carlos gave Hèctor a small nudge before walking off to find some others. 

Hèctor closed his eyes to collect his thoughts. The last time he saw María was the day before Dia de los Muertos. He had told her of his plan to dress as Frida to get across the bridge. At the time it seemed like a genius idea, plus Ceci had dozens of Frida costumes she was making. Surly she’d spare one for him. 

_ “You really think pretending to be Frida will get you through?”  _

_ “Well, Yeah! Maybe… it’s not the most extreme plan I’ve had, but I have to get across this year Mamà. I’m fading, I can feel it.”  _

María had frowned, sighing at how broken Hèctor seemed.

_ “Just be careful hijo, don’t get yourself into more trouble okay?” _

_ “Si, Mamà.”  _

Hèctor took a breath before opening the ballroom door. Any anxiety he had faded at the sight of so many children. Normally he’d feel sad and sorry for the forgotten children. But he’d walked in on so many of them laughing and playing. Just like how they should have in life. It warmed the part of him where his heart used to be.

“Hèctor?” a voice called before speaking up again. “Hèctor it’s you! Hijo, cómo estás?” A familiar woman ran up to Hèctor and flung her arms around him.

“Si! Mamà look what you’ve done! These niños look so happy!” He spun María around then placed her back onto her feet. “You still look good for having nearly three dozen kids.” 

María giggled at Hèctors complement. 

“Oh hush! It’s not just my doing. Having this space helped a lot. There’s so much to keep the kids entertained and happy. It’s nice to see everyone, not just the kids, but  _ everyone _ having so much life in them. Well, as much life as the dead can have,” she corrected. “Come, Miss Verónica and Miss Silvia can take over for now. I’ve been keeping something for you.” 

Hèctor followed María up some stairs and down a long hall. He hadn’t seen much of the mansion before, so it was all new to him. She stopped in front of a double door and gave him a gentle look. 

“This was Ernesto’s room. None of us wanted to go in it. You knew him in life, you told me you used to be best friends, so we’ve decided it would be best for you to go through it.” 

Hèctor’s eyes widened. “What? I want nothing to do with him. There’s nothing in there I could possibly want. He didn’t die with my guitar, that’d be the only thing I’d want.” Hèctor crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the large double doors. Of all the things Ernesto stole from him, he couldn’t have at least died with his favorite guitar? How rude. 

“You never know, hijo, you might find something you’d like to take,” María suggested, resting a hand onto his shoulder. “Think about it. I have to get back to the kids. Come visit me again soon, okay?” She leaned up to kiss Hèctors cheekbone before leaving to tend to the kids again. 

“What could he possibly have that if want?” Hèctor mumbled to himself, pushing the door open in spite of himself. It wasn’t surprising to him that Ernesto had a giant bed in the center of the room, large fish tank, a bathroom attached to the room, walk in closet, and a personal mini bar. It looked like his over-egotistical attitude threw up all over the room. 

He rolled his eyes as he stepped foot into the room. His eyes scanned for anything that’d actually spark any interest. Just being in the room was unsettling. Hèctor didn’t want any hand-me-down stolen fame bull crap. He tracked his feet to Ernesto’s closet, figuring he’d take a look at what flashy clothes he owned. He was one who liked to be extra dramatic, extra showy, just all around _ extra. _

Hèctor was about to leave the walk in closet when something caught his eye. In the back of the closet he noticed a box that looked very old. It had... definitely been there a while. It had collected a lot of dust, and seemed as though it was carelessly shoved in the corner. He picked up the box curiously and carried it out to the bed before opening it. What laid on top caused Hèctor to gasp. 

“I can’t believe it..” he whispered softly to himself, pulling out an old red book. It was his song book! The one he used to write his songs in, and his letters to Imelda and Coco. Somehow Ernesto must have managed to die with it on him. He hesitantly opened his book, wondering if Ernesto scribbled in it or messed up anything he wrote. To his surprise, everything was left as he had written it many years ago. The only thing that appeared to be missing was a page that was torn out. He assumed it was the last letter he had been writing for Coco.

Hèctor set the red notebook aside and continued to dig through the old box. He came across Ernesto’s first record deal, a couple old VHS tapes, and a blue notebook. Hèctor never remembered Nesto keeping a notebook. He wasn’t exactly the best at writing songs… Curiously he opened the book and flipped through a few emotionless songs. None that seemed to ever get released, probably for the better. They... weren’t great.  Songwriting had never been one of his talents. Hèctor stopped flipping on a page with a song titled;  _ No me dejes _

 

_ Mi amor, mi amor  _   
_ His eyes rich as cocoa  _ __   
_ Heart full of love  _ __   
_ I ask him not to leave me,  _ __   
_ Mi amor mi amor  _ __   
_ He turns me away, _ __   
_ Saying he must go  _ __   
_ A forbidden love  _ __   
_ That will soon die  _ __   
_ Mi amor mi amor  _ __   
_ Hair so dark and soft  _ __   
_ I want to hold you tight _ __   
_ I’d never let you go  _ __   
_ Why are you blind to our love?  _ __   
_ Mi amor mi amor  _ __   
_ I cannot let you leave  _ __   
_ If you cannot be mine  _ __   
_ You will leave me no choice  _ __   
_ Oh, you will be mine  _ _   
_ __ Mi amor mi amor

 

Well, it was... terrible.  But Hèctor furrowed his brows. He had so many questions about it. For one thing; it was written about a man. It had never crossed his mind in life that Ernesto may have been a homosexual. Then again, they’d been alive so long ago, and he cared so much about his reputation. Perhaps it wasn’t something he could have just talked about… but they told each other everything! Though perhaps this revelation came later to Ernesto, later than Hèctor had known him.  Maybe the song was for a friend he’d never met.

He let out a soft sigh before closing the blue book, setting it on top of his red one. They would be the only things he’d take from the room. Everything else could be given away for all Hèctor cared. 

He walked out of the room with both books in hand as he headed back down the stairs. 

“Carlos!” he called as he returned to the hall. “I have to go. María told me to go through De La Gilipollas room. There’s nothing else in there I want. Just these notebooks. Tell Mama I’ll come back to visit soon.” He waved to Carlos as he left the mansion, heading towards the plaza. 

Who could that song have been about? What other guys did Ernesto know? Who did he meet after murdering him? Did he murder him too? Why didn’t Ernesto tell him he had feelings for a man? 

After sitting on a bench in the Plaza Hèctor opened the blue notebook again, scanning for any other evidence. 

 

_ December 15, 1921 _

_ It’s been two months since your demise, dear friend. I still can’t believe I had to do that to you. I just wanted us to succeed together. You and me. Just us. No wife or child to stand in our way. We’d have so much fame and fortune together. But you wanted to throw it all away. I just couldn’t let you do that. You really should have waited a little longer. Tonight I played in Mérida and was offered a large sum of money to perform here again. Mr. Lopez told me if tomorrow’s show goes just as well he’d sign me a record deal. Hèctor, you should have stayed with me. We could have had this together. This is why you need to seize your moment, and not be weak… tomorrow my life will change forever. I’m sure of it.  _

_ Goodbye, mi amor  _

 

Hèctor sighed after reading the page. He wished he could have seen how bad of a person Ernesto was before the poisoned him. He hated that the man he grew up with, and thought he knew everything about had so many secrets.

Deciding that he’s read enough for now, Hèctor closed the book again. He  _ had _ to talk to him. He needed closure. Hèctor had to ask Ernesto who the man in the song was, why he didn’t ever tell him, and yell at him for murdering him. He promised Imelda he wouldn’t do anything stupid; but getting closure was far from stupid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up in a few days if I finish it. We'll see some more of the journal, Héctor might just start connecting some dots, and maybe we'll have to two chat! Or not, It hasn't been written yet. Don't trust me.


	3. The blue Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bunch of Ernesto's journal entries from life, plus one after he died. WARNING: This chapter does have some adult themes. Mention of alcohol, underage drinking, consensual sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always a special thanks to hTeDruknenPotaT for being my beta, and allowing me to share my thoughts and ideas with her!

_April 12, 1922_

_I woke up in a cold sweat again. Tonight my dream started as most of the others did. He and I were dancing in the rain. His laugh warms my heart as I pull him closer into my embrace. I can’t help but admire his beauty. From the shape of his nose to the curve of his lips. I wanted nothing more than to tenderly kiss him. But before I could, his expression changed to that of something sinister. I didn’t want to push him away, but I did anyway. It was no use though. He grabbed me and whispered to my ear; “I know what you did. Everyone will know what you did. You’ll live with this guilt for the rest of your life!” He then poured poison down my throat, laughing as I gasped and begged him for help._

_Why must these dreams start out as I wish life could have been? I fool myself into thinking everything will be alright. But I don’t know if it will ever be._

 

_July 23 1922_

_Today had been an amazing stepping stone in my career. I’ve recorded some songs for a record. Soon the world will be hearing songs that should have been shared long ago. Those who cannot come to see a live De La Cruz show will now be able to listen to the music at home on records. My voice will be filling many homes soon. One song in particular seems to be taking the crowds by storm. Hèctor never even showed it to_ **_me_ ** _! ‘Remember Me’ is a perfect song and shouldn’t be hidden from the world. Anytime someone hears the song they’ll have no choice but to think of me. Fame is coming fast, and on days like today I regret nothing. Do I miss him? Of course. But my life wouldn’t have come to this had I not let him go. Seize your moment in life. No matter the cost._

 

_November 1, 1922_

_It’s been a little over one year. Happy Dia de los Muertos, Hèctor. You deserve that much. I don’t have a photo to put up for you. Not that I have the time to anyway. I’ve been so busy recording and playing some of the best shows of my life. I feel silly for still writing. Keeping a journal like some woman. It’s pathetic. Still, it takes the edge off. Especially after a refreshing shot of tequila or whiskey. I still marvel at my wide selection of drinks. I remember being young. We’d steal some cheap market liquor and drink up like we were already big shots. I believe you may have been eleven, and I fifteen the first time we drank together. You threw up on your only shirt and cried about it. I remember laughing at you, but I’ll be damned. You flashed your puppy eyes at me and made me soft. I stole you a new shirt to shut you up. You never could hold liquor well. That certainly never changed. There was another time; I believe you were fifteen and I was nineteen. I suggested you take a few shots before talking to the girl you liked. You know, the one you came to marry. Well, one shot quickly turned into four. I remember watching you stumble and throw up all over yourself and her. I will say I’m impressed she still courted with you after that. Terrible decision really._

_I don’t care to know what she’s doing nowadays. I never sent her a letter about you. Maybe I should have. It never crossed my mind. Still, I’d rather not speak or write to her. That woman hits with her shoe harder than any I’ve ever met. I will not subject myself to that. No way. She’ll figure it out eventually._

_Until death reunites us dear friend,_

_Salud!_

 

_February 14, 1925_

_Ah yes, today is the day of love. I’ll be playing in Mexico City again tonight. I expect there will be a lot of couples enjoying my show together. I expect record sales and ticket sales to be exceptionally night tonight. As for the love, I could care less. My love is playing music. I won’t let some pathetic person get between that. I tried to love someone once. But he turned his back on me. I gave all the signs I possibly could to show him that I loved him. He still chose a puta of a woman over me, and started a family with her. His loss, he’s gone now. No matter! Lesson learned about love. It’s just not worth it. Why should I love any one person; when the world is falling in love with me. My music is hitting some of the top charts. My voice is being heard all over Mexico, and maybe even the world soon. So, happy Valentine’s Day, my love, music._

 

_May 2, 1930_

_This evening was rather interesting. As usual I went to have drinks after my show. Señoras like to come on to me while I’m having my post show drinks. I don’t mind the attention. If I’m what makes their heart sing then so be it. Who am I to deny my greatness to these lovely women? Of course they try to court with me. They think I’ll want to marry one of them. Marriage is not for me. However I still will tease as long as reporters are around. I’ve been named a heartthrob and plan to keep that title. I decided to bring a lovely woman to my hotel room to amuse her. One thing lead to another… it never gets easier. I try to enjoy myself, I want nothing more than to enjoy myself in bed with these women. But I just can’t seem to get it right. What man can’t properly sleep with a woman? She was visibly disappointed in the whole ordeal… I had offered quite a bit of money to keep her from telling anyone about it. Here’s to hoping she keeps her word._

 

_December 18, 1934_

_Outstanding news today! I’ve been offered to star in a movie! Truly a remarkable step forward for the future of my fans. Moving pictures they will be able to hear and save for many years to come. I’ll be playing as myself in the series of movies they are writing for me. I will even be working with the crew for a script I’ll be writing on my own. Call me crazy, but I’ve decided I’ll title one of the movies ‘El Camino A casa’. A story of two friends who played music together their whole life. Until one day, I get poisoned by my friend. I’ll spit the poison out and be the hero. Sure, it’s a slight twist on reality. But in this version I come out the hero. I’m even going to do my own stunts! With this technology growing, my memory will be able to live on forever. Who knows how I’ll be able to inspire the world ten years from now. As I grow, the more I play, the more of these opportunities knock on my door, the more fame I’ll get. I feel like I’ve finally made it._

 

_June 30, 1937_

_My movies have been doing very well lately, and I’ve been told we’re going to be filming some more soon. I have a ghostwriter working on writing my story. Leaving out some… minor details. I’ve told him only what he needs to know, and with what I’ve given him I should have a good autobiography out of it. These last few years have been truly the best in my life. With every step forward I will make sure there are no steps backward. I will continue to seize these moments._

 

_January 3, 1939_

_For once in my life I am glad I had no press around me. I believe I made a big mistake, one I actually regret. At least, I think I regret it. I must._

_Last night was the first night off that I’ve had in a very long time. I’m in the small town of San Pedro Atocpan, just outside the limits of Mexico City. I was at a small local bar having some drinks. As much as I love attention, I’ve decided my day off would be spent blending in. No large commotions or crowd for once. I wore street clothes. At first glance no one would pay any mind to me. This being such a small town I figured it would be easier to just blend behind the regular people. I was right for the most part. I enjoyed some shots at the bar and watched others come and go. A slender man sat next to me and began ordering himself some cheap drinks as well. He seemed so familiar. The way his ears and nose stuck out, the high cheekbones and thin frame looked like someone I used to know. He smiled at me and began a conversation. At first it was just mindless banter. But I later found myself actually laughing at his jokes and the things he’d say. Perhaps I had too much to drink. We stumbled out of the bar together and took a walk down to a pond he liked to visit. There was nobody around to see me pull him close for a songless dance. He willingly wrapped his arms over my shoulders, allowing me to hold his waist as we spun around. I was enjoying his company. When we stopped dancing I looked into his eyes. Seeing a familiar puppy dog look. Soft, caring, luscious eyes. Even his smile and the shape of those curved lips reminded me… of_ **_him_ ** _._

_“Señor I’ve had a great time with you tonight.” He whispered softly, taking hold of my hand. I never imagined there were others out there who had the same confusing feelings as me. I’ve never been to bed with a man, not before last night anyway._

_“I think I’ve enjoyed this time too.” I admitted to him, having no time to collect my thoughts before his lips were pressed against mine. I wanted to shove him away. Punch him in the face for considering that I’d want to kiss him. But instead I submitted to the feeling. Our lips seemed to dance for a while before exploring each other’s bodies. I had always hoped one day on tour I would have been able to explore his body. Passion took the two of us over. I made love to this stranger by the pond. For the first time it felt right. Why it had never felt like that with a woman is beyond me._

_I was looking down at his face with my hands on his hips, pushing myself in and out of him. Something in my stomach twisted. I felt anger sweep over me._

_“How could you leave me…” I growled, seeing my old friend in the man. “How_ **_dare_ ** _you leave me!”_

_“Ah, señor... what are you talking about?”_

_“You left me. Went off and married some… some puta! How dare you not see how bad I’ve wanted you! How bad I’ve wanted this!”_

_I must have startled the stranger with my words as I was not making much sense to him. Though nothing was making sense.  The man seemed frozen. In those eyes I saw you more than ever._

_“I loved you… Oh Dios mío I loved you so much. Why were you so stupid! How could you do this to me you_ **_idiota_ ** _!”_

_My lustful stranger looked confused but said nothing more. We were both too far deep in our actions that backing out now wasn’t an option._

_When we were both finished we embraced with breathless kisses, slowly catching our breath._

_I got dressed once I came to terms with what happened._

_“I can’t believe I just… that we just…” For the first time in my life I was at a loss for words. Usually I could get myself out of any situation. Talk myself out of many circumstances. But last night I was weak._

_“Me either. I’ve wanted to try this with a man for a while now.” The stranger admitted as he dressed himself._

_“I think I have too. Lo siento, but you look so much like an old friend of mine. One I wished I could have done this with long ago.”_

_“I’m flattered, he was good looking then.” He chuckled and placed a hand to my shoulder. “Maybe now you’ll have the courage to talk to him about it.”_

_I winced at the suggestion. The poor bastardo had no idea.._

_“Unfortunately I don’t think that’ll be possible. He had a wife and daughter, and he has been dead for many years now.” The on the strangers face fell. Clearly pitying me._

_“Oh, Lo siento. Then, I’m glad you could at least pretend.” He offered a gentle smile, eyes soft as they looked into mine. “ Will I be able to see you again?” he asked._

_“No. I must be moving on now… But I want to thank you for helping me to understand… Gracias…” I placed a final kiss to this strangers lips before heading back to my hotel._ _  
_ _I never wanted to discover this about myself. I’m both disgusted but not surprised. For once, I’m glad no one knew who I was for a day._

  


_December 17 , 1941_

_Santa Cecelia has put up a statue in my honor. It got all my best features and looks very handsome if I do say so myself. Record sales are up, and my movies have been showing very frequently. I sat down with some interviewers in Santa Cecelia today who wanted to know more about my music career. I was able to give some inspiring words for my fans to always hold close. I also announced my up and coming tour starting next month. I’ll be playing a lot of big shows with dozens of dancers and staff to help make my shows even better. It’s going to make for a good year. My future is heading in the right direction and I don’t believe anything could stop me now. I’ve moved into my own mansion for when I’m not touring. Everything is going to be amazing._

 

_December 1942_

_I don’t know the exact date. It’s been… weird. Bad, but also good? I don’t know what to make of this yet. Two months ago while on tour I met my early fate. Crushed, and killed, by a giant bell while on tour. I woke up in a strange place. The land of the Dead. The very place I always assumed what just a dumb legend. I never believed in anything after death. Why should I have believed in anything? Now the truth is before me. I am a skeleton of myself, with my own unique markings. At first I was worried all my years of hard work had just been flushed down the drain. Thankfully, that is the exact opposite of what happened. There are many fans here. Many people who listened to me in life. I am able to continue my career in death. I have just as much as I did in life. The first Dia de los Muertos I received more offerings than I knew what to do with. My memory is going to live on for a very long time. As long as I am remembered, I will continue blessing my dead fans with music. I was lucky to die with both my journal and Hèctors songbook tucked into my jacket. But it’s time now to put them both away. I never want them to see the light of day again. So as I continue my career, everything will just be mentally noted in my head from here forward._

_Goodbye._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's to come: Next chapter should hopefully finally have some Ernesto and Hector interactions! Let's see if I actually write it that way or push it off another chapter ~


	4. Let's Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hector decides to talk to Ernesto. Ernesto has a bit of a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to hTeDruknenPotaT for being my beta. <3 lots of love towards her <3
> 
> This chapter is a result o pushing off writing all day, then staying up until 4am just to write.

It had been about a week since Hèctor thumbed through Ernesto’s journal. It was full of his deepest feelings and emotions, ones he didn’t even know existed. Growing up Hèctor saw his best friend as a macho man with dreams bigger than his eyes. Now he was just the man who murdered him and stole his songs. 

Hèctor tried to just let it go. He wanted to move on and forget everything he read. All the truth Ernesto wrote shouldn’t have mattered when his actions spoke louder than passion. Ernesto was an evil man who didn’t have room in his heart for love and forgiveness. Hèctor wondered how he could be so stupid to not see it when he was alive. Looking back it seemed clear now. It never crossed his mind back then. After all, Hèctor was in love with Imelda. No amount of signs anyone could have thrown at him would have mattered. 

 

“Abuelito, you’ve hardly touched your dinner.” Victora hummed softly, snapping Hèctor out of his thoughts. He looked around the table, seeing the curious eyes of his family on him. 

“Oh, uh, s í , s í ! Just daydreaming I guess.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 

“Papà, were you thinking of a song to play after dinner?” Coco chimed in, a gentle smile on her face. 

“Lo siento, Coco, But I don’t think there will be a song tonight. I need to uh, go to the plaza and buy some new guitar strings. Mine are starting to sound horrible.” Hèctor offered a shy chuckle before turning to poke at his food. It seemed like a good enough excuse to get out for a while. Get some air. He loved his family more than anything, but sometimes talking to them could be overwhelming. 

“Oscar and I can go with you! Maybe we could have some drinks while we’re out!” Felipe offered with a grin, nudging at his twin. 

“ Sí ! Some tequila, some music, it’d be great!” Oscar added.

“If you’re all going out, Coco and I could come too! We love dancing in the plaza,” Julio chimed.

Soon Rosita and Victoria found a way to include themselves into making it a family affair as well. Hèctor could feel his breathing speeding up. His heart would be pounding against his ribs in this situation. It was nice of everyone to want to join him, but the sudden uproar when he wished to be alone was a bit much to take in. 

“I, ah, n — ”

“Enough.” Imelda stood and placed her hands to her hips. “He’s a grown man and can take a short walk to the plaza on his own.” Hèctor wanted to leap across the table and kiss her for saving him. But instead he offered a relieved smile. “Before you go, I want to talk to you though,” she added, indicating that he in fact was not off the hook yet. He could all but nod as a response. As everyone went back to their original conversations; Hèctor just stared at the food before him. 

 

After dinner Hèctor did his part to help clean up before trying to sneak out the back door. 

“I said we were going to talk.” Imelda said sternly, crossing her arms as she walked toward her husband. 

“Oh! Right… what did you want to talk about m í  amor?” 

“I think you know… You really haven’t been yourself since you-know-who got released from the bell.” Her tone softened, eyes watching Hèctor carefully. “Maybe you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really, but I can’t keep things from you, ‘Melda.” He took a deep breath. “I went to visit my old friends from Shantytown who are living in Ernesto’s mansion. I found something. My old songbook, and a journal he had in life.” Hèctor wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Imelda everything that journal said. After all, he himself was still processing a lot of it. 

“So? I’m sure his ego caused him to write a lot of toro egoísta.” She raised a brow.

“Well, yes. But there’s a lot I didn’t know.” Hèctor glanced away. “He had no right to murder me. No right to put me through what he did, or try to murder our grandson. I don’t know that I could  _ ever _ forgive him. But I think I need to talk to him. I have to confront him if I’m going to move on.” His eyes met Imelda’s. Worried that she’d disapprove, or be mad at him for even thinking of going near Ernesto. He waited to be scolded, but the harsh words never came. Instead she placed a gentle hand to his shoulder. 

“You know I hate this plan of yours. But, if you need the closure I can’t deny you that.” Imelda leaned up to place a soft kiss to Hèctor’s cheekbone. “Promise me you’ll at least be careful… and promise me you will come back.” Imelda closed her eyes and rest her head against Hèctors ribs. 

“Lo prometo, mi amor. I’ll always come back for you.” He promised, holding his wife close before stepping back. Never again would he allow anyone to come between he and his wife. No one would ever be able to convince him to go anywhere far if Imelda couldn’t be with him! 

He exchanged a gentle kiss with Imelda before walking off. Hèctor figured Ernesto could really only be in one place, that is, if he didn’t completely run off to another part of their world. With each step Hèctor took towards Shantytown he felt his legs growing heavy. It felt like he was dragging forty pound shackles around his ankles. 

_ “Ernesto we need to talk”  _

No that would be too straight forward. 

_ “You’re going to answer my questions, whether you like it or not!”  _

No, way too direct. 

 

Hèctor let out an aggravated groan. He needed to find the right thing to say. How was he supposed to bring up everything? He wasn’t even sure he should bring up the journal. After all, he was only getting closure for his murder, and for the near murder of his great great grandson. But the things in that journal… 

“No. Don’t think about that.  _ Estupido _ …” 

 

The sky changed its colors from the evening red-yellow tones to the nighttime blue-black. Stars began to twinkle in the dark, nothing but the moon lighting Hèctors path as he reached the outskirts of town. One step at a time he got closer to Shantytown, noticing how structures become much more ragged and torn down. It reflected just how the nearly forgotten felt. In a way Hèctor felt more at home as he walked onto the creaky wood boardwalk. His eyes scanned diligently over the row of huts before him. Stopping on one in particular. The sign still read ‘ _ KEEP OUT _ ’

He could remember the day he first met Chicharron. It was after two years of failed attempts to get across the merigold bridge on día de los Muertos. Hèctor could remember feeling hopeless. His family clearly resented him. Ernesto would have told them he died — or so he originally thought. In his mind, Imelda hated him even if he was trying to go home. 

He wandered around until he found Shantytown. Quickly learning that there were a lot of people who were being forgotten, or not welcome on their families ofrenda. Hèctor sat near the entrance of the town, back against the tall brick wall. It was covered in drawings of skeletons with golden wings. At the time he didn’t know or care what any of that meant. 

_ “You new here?”  _ A voice asked. Hèctor almost didn’t say anything, but a shorter skeleton decided to sit next to him. His eyes never met Hèctors. They stared out at the community before them. 

_ “I guess so… I’ve been here two years and my family haven’t put up my photo. I must’ve really messed up.”   _ He finally replied, laying his head back against the hard surface. 

_ “Huh. Well join the club, kid. We’re all here alone. No ofrenda to go home to.”  _

_ “But, I was trying to go home. I couldn’t stand touring and being away from my wife and mi hija… I tri _ _ — _ _ ” _

_ “We all make mistakes in life, niño. We can wish we did things differently, want to change things, but we can’t.”  _

Hèctor certainly hadn’t felt any better hearing that. Whatever kind of pep talk this was supposed to be didn’t feel good at all. But this man was right. What could be possibly do to fix things now? His shoulders drooped as he sighed. 

_ “I guess you’re right…”  _

_ “What’s your name, kid?”  _

_ “Hèctor… Hèctor Rivera.”  _

_ “I’m Chicharron. Listen, we’re kind of like a family here. So feel free to stay if you want.”  _

 

Hèctor snapped out of his thoughts, needing to focus on the task at hand. Find Ernesto. Don’t get consumed in more feelings than you can bear. Simple. He peaked his head into a few of the empty huts, most of which contained leftover junk. Lots of empty liquor bottles and various things that were found in the river. This place felt like an actual ghost town. Even for the dead, it felt so eerie. 

He could hear some faint barking in the distance. It sounded like the yappings of several tiny alebrijes.  Definitely from some Chihuahuas. Hèctor remembered three small spirit guides running around the mansion the night he confronted Ernesto and Miguel about his photo. He continued to follow the sound, leading him behind one of the rundown huts. It was there he finally saw him. The oh so ‘ _ great _ ’ Ernesto De La Cruz. His back was leaned up against the wall, one leg dangling idly over the boardwalk. His eyes were focused on the gently moving water. 

Hèctor opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to say. He tried to practice this conversation earlier, and still couldn’t think of the right thing to say. The yapping spirit guides ran passed Hèctor to go find something to play with. 

“What do you want?” Ernesto’s voice spoke up, eyes never leaving the water. He didn’t have the energy to get up and try to argue or push the his old friend away. Sure, he was still well remembered. There wasn’t any doubt Ernesto wasn’t going to experience the final death anytime soon. 

“I wanted to talk to you. About—”

“About how I murdered you. Why I didn’t tell your wife? Why I stole your songs? Hèctor, I don’t have an answer that you’ll like for any of that. So just leave,” Ernesto spat out, wanting the conversation to be over. He was used to just being alone now, it was what he wanted right now. 

“About this.” Hèctor tossed the blue journal on the ground next to his former best friend. He watched Ernesto glance to see what fell next to him, hearing his breath hitch slightly. 

“Have you heard of privacy?” 

“You literally murdered me for my songbook full of private songs.” Hèctor scoffed. 

“Touchè…” 

There was a moment of silence, neither of them wanting to speak any further. Both wanted to avoided the inevitable. 

“Hèctor, just get it over with.” Ernesto muttered. “Go ahead and hit me for murdering you. Take your shot. I have no excuses now. Hit me, get your anger and resentment out, then just leave.  _ Go home _ .” 

That was all Hèctor needed to hear. Those words;  _ go home _ . The very thing he wanted in the first place. Hèctor swung his fist in a fit of rage at Ernesto.  He knocked him over onto his back with a grunt. He punched his frustration out on his ex friend, taking every opportunity he could to swing punch after punch until his arms were tired. 

Hèctor finally backed off, plopping onto the ground to catch his breath. “I wanted… to go home… in the first place…” he muttered through breaths. 

Ernesto groaned in response. He might not have had skin to bruise, or muscles to ache, but his bones surely felt sore now. He sat up and shook his head, placing a hand where he was sure a small crack had formed. 

“There, now you can go,” Ernesto grumbled, laying his head against the brick wall for support. 

“No. We still need to talk.” 

“ _ About what! _ ” 

“About that journal of yours… I read it. All of it.” Hèctor crossed his arms. He had to talk about it. He got his anger out about being murdered, but now, he needed to address some of the other issues… 

“You read it. It’s self explanatory. Please, go. It’s not worth talking about,” Ernesto muttered, averting his eyes to the ground. Hèctor sighed.

“It is. I… Nesto, I’m sorry I never saw any of the signs. It wouldn’t have changed anything if I did. I love Imelda. You know that.” His tone softened. 

“I know. I had it bad for you.” Ernesto finally admitted it out loud, looking up to the sky. He didn’t want to look at Hèctor, he couldn’t bear to. “I always had these dreams, before I killed you. We’d be together and love one another like a man and woman do. This was before you met Imelda. Then, after you met her, I tried so hard to get between you two and it never worked. It damn near  _ killed _ me to be your best man at your wedding.” Ernesto’s voice began to shake. It had to have been the first time Hèctor had ever heard this man start to break. For his cool, collected, exterior to finally collapse. 

“Nesto… I—”

“I wanted to object that wedding. I had to swallow my feelings and give you my blessings to marry her, like you had asked. Growing up without a father, you wanted me to bless your wedding. Dios mío I hated myself. Not only for having to swallow my feelings, but for those feelings being there to begin with!” Ernesto’s hands trembled as he wiped his eyes. He felt humiliated, broken, angry for feeling all that he felt. For the first time tonight Ernesto turned to make eye contact with Hèctor. His were soft and apologetic. 

Hèctor sighed softly, eyes focused on the broken man before him. 

“I will never forgive you for what you’ve done.” he started, swallowing hard. “But we have to figure out where to go from here. Let’s talk….” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, even I don't have a plan for what's next. Next chapter may take a bit longer to come up, I've about hit my limits with pushing out 4 chapters in such a short period of time. I need some time to collect my thoughts and Ideas to get this to end with a bang!

**Author's Note:**

> I do not speak Spanish, nor do I know very much at all. Anything in Spanish is just based on google translate. I'm sorry if I get something wrong! I'm open to corrections with any Spanish now and in future chapters!
> 
> Baila conmigo mi amigo - Dance with me my friend


End file.
